That's my favorite thing about him. I like to lie next to him when it's late, dark, and so quiet I can hear my own heartbeat. It's times like that when I'm sure that I'm in love.

Anger is useful only to a certain point. After that, it becomes rage, and rage will make you careless.

I'm used to a feeling of doubleness, of thinking one thing and having to do another, a constant tug-of-war.

And for a moment―for a split second―everything else falls away, the whole pattern and order of my life, and a huge joy crests in my chest. I am no one, and I owe nothing to anybody, and my life is my own.

Funny how certain things stay with you.

Why couldn't you let me have it? Why did you have to take it? Why did you always take everything?

So far I've seen the life studies packet used as (1) an umbrella, (2) a makeshift towel, (3) a pillow, and now this. I have never actually seen anyone study with it, which either means that everyone who graduates from Thomas Jefferson will be totally unprepared for life or that certain things can't be learned in bullet-point format.